Week Seven
SURVIVING IN THE BUBBLE
WAHOO!!! LOCKDOWN LEVEL 2!!!
What a feeling. A definite cause for celebration.
Finally, for many, a break from the mindless mundane-ness of being “stuck” in the same spot for weeks on end. The cogs of the economy are starting to turn again as people return to their daily working lives, fighting commuter traffic, getting the kids ready to go back to school and enjoying the luxury of a coffee or a meal out.
I have always felt a little reclusive by nature but my transient lifestyle doesn’t really allow for that; so I had rather come to enjoy this temporary state of being and am a little sad that things are slowly going to return to a “new normal”. Admittedly, I am looking forward to having a bit more freedom to move around and to finally address that “hair” situation.
But before I go any further, I would like to say a big thank you for all the phone calls, texts and other messages of support after I posted last weeks blog. I would like to reassure everybody that I am absolutely okay. I had spent half a morning cursing about my back and feeling sorry for myself before getting my shit back together and now I’m as right as rain.
However, I felt that it was important to share what I had experienced as a reminder to others that if you are feeling down in the dumps then it is healthy to let those emotions out. Don’t be shy, reach out to others if you need advice or a shoulder to cry on. It is a fact of life that sometimes you will crash and burn…but tell yourself, whenever you hit a low point that it can’t get any worse then let your resolve kick in.
Once again I do attribute my resilience to my pioneering forebears, which brings to mind a story about my paternal grandmother, Mary Emma Nicholson-Arnet. A number of years ago, my Uncle Robert had given me an envelope containing forty-five (photocopied) pages of her hand-written life story.
I had always intended to transcribe her memoirs but as the years went by I misplaced the envelope. However while spring cleaning my caravan a few months ago after my shed was built, I found the missing transcript in one of my drawers. As a result, one of my little projects prior to lockdown was to finally write her story.
Her parents were Swiss immigrants and about a century ago they settled on swamp land in Springdale, a small farming village on the Hauraki Plains. They toiled for years to drain the swamp to create arable farm land. The swamp was full of tree stumps such as Rimu, Matai, Kauri; the remains of old bush and lots of Manuka.
My understanding is that the Hauraki Plains was the old river bed of the mighty Waikato (NZ’s longest river), way back when it fed into the Firth of Thames. This was before it changed direction after a large volcanic eruption about 1800 years ago, to it’s current exit point of Port Waikato, south of Auckland.
My grandmother wrote that often, after the backbreaking work of clearing an area, more stumps would surface from the wet and muddy ground. But eventually their efforts were rewarded and they had grass and fenced paddocks. Until many years later, when a fateful peat fire ripped through the farm; burning underground for several days.
Once the fire was brought under control and extinguished they were able to assess the damage. It had totally decimated the farmland and their years of hard labour. The resulting fire had caused more buried tree stumps to resurface, only this time it was far worse than before.
These farming pioneers had no choice but to clear the land again. It must have been devastating and heart- breaking for these hard-working souls. But they simply turned around and got on with the job.
And humans today think we are hard done by and have it tough!
Which is why when I woke up the other morning to discover that yet another white- tail spider had left it’s mark on me, I could only shake my head in disbelief. I’ve lost track of how many bites I have had over the years. Most of the bites I’ve received seem to be around my feet or lower legs with the spiders either hiding out in my footwear or lurking in the sheets at the bottom of my bed.
It annoys me immensely when scientists and medical professionals deny that these spiders are poisonous. Maybe to 99% of the population they aren’t. But I’ve just finished reading Bill Bryson’s “To a Sunburned Country” where he clearly states that in Australia they are definitely considered to be toxic. Maybe NZ doesn't want to admit that we have a problem with this particular poisonous creature in our midst.
To be honest I’m not sure if what I am experiencing is actually a bite or an allergic reaction from being in close contact with the spider. What I do know is that it stings like buggery, it necrotises my skin, forms a blister then ulcerates. These wounds usually take weeks to heal.
My youngest nephew Kyle who is allergic to bee stings also reacts to white-tail spider bites. In fact his last encounter saw him hospitalised. So if anyone else reacts like I do then I suggest you try this homeopathic remedy (also available in a spray), it helps with the healing a lot. My only word of advice is don’t pop the blister.
What I do find mildly curious is that you know how cats always gravitate to people who dislike cats, well this is what spiders are like with me. It’s simply bad luck on my part that they are attracted to me. I always seem to find them hovering around or actually on my person. I try to be nice and leave them alone. I mean, look at the size of them compared to me, there’s no need to be afraid, right?
And so I keep telling myself, it can’t get any worse. At least my back is a lot better.
Amanda has been stunned and amazed by my run of bad-luck with regards to physical ailments! She on the other hand has been dealing with loads of “family” stuff involving lots of learning and letting go…on an emotional level.
But apart from this, life continues on in our bubble.
Amanda is still busy beavering away in the garden. She has planted natives in the front and continues to tidy up the trees and shrubs. Plus she has had a few tradesmen visit the property to supply joinery quotes for the new windows, advance preparation for the renovation.
I’ve kept myself busy with making more Feijoa Chutney, I can’t seem to get enough of the stuff. Plus I have had another couple of writing deadlines. This time a 100 word micro-fiction competition along with a writing scholarship application. There was also a "houseparty" on Mothers Day.
The big news is that under Level 2, Mark is now finally able to bring the furniture across from Wellington. The ferry was sold out for this weekend so he is booked for the following one. Amanda is very excited at the prospect of finally seeing her man.
Plans are forming and a few decisions are being made. The first of these is that Amanda and I will both travel back to Wellington next weekend with Mark. At this stage Amanda is thinking she will stay for at least a month then return to Nelson. As for me, how long I will stay there for? I’m still unsure. Watch this space.
Hope you find the following as interesting as I did…
Did anyone see this video “The Great Realisation” by Tomfoolery? I was surprised to learn about the poet’s Kiwi connection:
I also think this is long overdue:
Geoffrey Palmer’s insights, insightful:
As was this from the author of “Rich Dad, Poor Dad”:
I might have to try this recipe next, thanks for the recommendation Erana:
And this weeks "funnies" ripped off social media:
And images from home, out and about:
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| Amanda's collection |
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| Rabbit Island with Jackie |
Enjoy your week everyone.
Thanks for tuning in to surviving in the bubble.
onepurplefish
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